


Baseball

by almightygwil (elllie)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Neighbors, Smut, babysitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29461413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elllie/pseuds/almightygwil
Summary: Joe is your neighbor. Your extremely attractive, older neighbor. You begin to babysit his kids and things between the two of you are quick to change.
Relationships: Joe Mazzello/Reader
Kudos: 2





	Baseball

**Author's Note:**

> Baseball // Hippo Campus

It was hot. The kind of summer afternoon that made you wonder if living here was worth it; not that you really had a choice. Freshman year of college had nearly killed you and sent you running back to your parents with your tail between your legs. Sophomore year had been better; living at your parents’ house, not paying rent, and taking online classes. Gave you a little more focus; got you better grades.

Your position, as silly as it sounded, was completely innocent, though that was not how Joe perceived it. You were sweating (east coast summers were _not_ supposed to be so hot), your cheek pressed against the backseat of your car as you groaned in frustration. Your fingers just barely brushed the apple that had rolled under your passenger seat. It had been pushed all the way back on a night you couldn’t remember, making it difficult to reach the fruit.

Joe stood behind you, smirking at your annoyance as you groaned again and collapsed into the seats, lying in defeat. “Y’know, it’d be easier if you moved the seat up.” 

You jumped at his words, surprised by his presence as you gasped quietly. You twisted to face him, a flush on your cheeks (thanks to the heat or his sudden appearance, you weren’t sure) and smiled sheepishly. “Thought I could do it.” He just laughed at your words, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans, shaking his head at you. It was a sight you were used to, something he’d done since the day you’d met nearly four years ago. Joe seemed to be the only person in the neighborhood equally amused by your antics as you. The smile and head shake combo seemed to be reserved especially for you; when your friends would drop you off too late and too loudly in high school, when you’d accidentally back into the garbage cans with your car, when you’d stumble out of the house at the same time he was leaving for work, a quick wave sent his way as you ran to your car, shoes in hand and a bagel held firmly between your teeth.

“You scared me,” you admitted, sitting up. “What’s up?”

Your bare feet brushed the hot cement of your driveway but you barely noticed, holding on to words he hadn’t even spoken yet. “I know you have your own life and everything.” You rolled your eyes at his words, making him chuckle. “But I need a babysitter for Charlie and Maddie for a couple of weeks. Thought maybe you’d be free.”

If you were more daring, you’d tease him about assuming your schedule, but he made you meek in a way most didn’t, most couldn’t, so you just grinned. “Yeah, totally! What happened to Ashley?” You asked curiously. You’d been friends with Ashley in high school; she lived down the road and had been babysitting for Joe since he’d moved in.

“She’s moving out of town. I just need you for a bit before I can find someone more permanent.” He rocked on his heels, brown eyes boring into you as you pursed your lips.

“Hm. Well, I’m free for as long as you need me.” _Forever, maybe?_ Your inner monologue keened; you nearly rolled your eyes at yourself. “What’s the schedule?”

***

As long as Joe had lived next door, you’d never gone further in his house than the foyer, so your eyes were all over the place as he led you to the living room, setting the bag he’d insisted on taking from you on the couch before turning around to look in your eyes. “Charlie and Maddie are _so_ excited. They think you’re great.”

You grinned at the compliment, chest swelling with pride. His kids liked you. Your neighbor’s kids liked you. The man you had a crush on, the man nearly double your age? His kids liked you. It was barely a compliment and if it was, it isn’t coming from him, but you still got excited. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. They think you’re hilarious,” he chuckled, listening for the pattering of tiny, bare feet on the hardwood through the house to no avail. He motioned for you to follow him.

“They’re just the best; I’m excited, too.” It wasn’t even close to a lie. Maddy, nearly five now, and Charlie, who had just turned eight, were adorable. Kind and sweet and both emblazoned with Joe’s brown eyes, big and deep, and his contagious laugh, the Mazzello kids were, without a doubt, your favorite kids on the block.

Your socked feet carried you behind Joe, his distracted humming the only thing to be heard in the hallway as he led you to the kids’ bedrooms. You followed him into what you could have only assumed was Charlie’s, the walls a navy blue with drawings scattered over the floor; the same drawings hanging in picture frames on the wall following the stairs, the same drawings hanging on the fridge, but you found neither child. 

Joe gave a discontented hum and you followed him into the other room, Maddie’s. The white walls housed shiny stars and framed quotes; you almost giggled at the thought of Joe in a printer's shop, asking for eleven by fourteen prints of a feminism quote and a simple “ _girl power_ ” in bold, black letters. Instead, you grinned at the sight. There was an impressive assortment of Barbies and baseballs covering the floor and you winced as you stepped on a doll, bending over to pick it up from under your feet. “Sorry, it’s so messy. I feel like we can’t keep these rooms clean, you know?”

“Oh, you’re fine. I get it.” Halfway through your sentence, you heard a quiet giggle, spinning around to face the direction it came from only to find a cracked closet door. A grin found its way to your face, turning back to Joe to see an equally amused smile playing on his lips. “It’s so weird that we can’t find them, though,” you said, watching the light in Joe’s eyes dance as the door swung open behind you.

You clutched your chest and spun around to face the giggling girl, her tiny arms already throwing themselves around you. “Boo!” She squealed excitedly, making you gasp. Your eyes caught Charlie’s, his face flushed and a smile painting his lips. You teasingly winked at him, dropping to your knees to get closer to their height. 

“You guys scared me!” You exclaimed dramatically. Maddie adjusted her hold on you, her arms wrapping around your neck as you hugged her back, your giggling entwining with hers until Charlie was giggling too. Joe only chuckled, watching you talk excitedly with his children. “How much fun are we gonna have?” You asked rhetorically. Even Charlie, perpetually shy and slow to warm up talked animatedly with you. How you had so enchanted his children vexed Joe, and how the feeling was mutual was more confusing still. Ashley babysat for three and a half years and never got Charlie out of his shell the way you had in the first ten minutes of meeting him.

Maddie and Charlie ran off to Charlie’s room, giving you a moment alone with Joe as you stood back up to your full height and turned to face him. “So, when’s dinner time?” You asked casually. He’s still reeling from watching you with his children, a smile glued to his face as he stared you down.

“Uh, five or six, usually. No baths tonight.” His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and pushing it toward you. “You’re welcome to anything in the fridge but here’s this if you guys want to order out.” He was rushing now, stepping back out of the bedroom. “I should be back around six or seven, but I’ll call if anything changes. You’re the best Y/N, really.” All his words strung together as he said goodbye to you and his children, another grin sent your way before he’s running down the stairs. He’d spent too long watching you, talking to you, and was now running the risk of being late to work.

You turned to face the kids, their soft faces already watching you expectantly. You clapped your hands together, holding them against your chest. “Okay, where to start?”

The three of you spent all day giggling, playing, and having fun. You barely noticed when the clock ticked past six, then seven, then eight. Your eyes nearly bulged with a quick glance at your watch to show you it was already a quarter to nine. You assumed it was their regularly scheduled bedtime because Charlie was beginning to get snippy and Maddie was calmly pressed into your side, eyelashes fluttering as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

There was very little pushback when you suggested bedtime. They both changed into their pajamas and brushed their teeth as you stood behind them, braiding Maddie’s hair to keep it away from her face in the night. “Then your hair will be wavy in the morning,” you had pressed, hoping to keep her heavy hair off her neck through the sticky-hot June night.

You sent Charlie to bed with only a high-five and a “ _See you tomorrow, dude,_ ” but Maddie insisted on you coming to her room. You followed, sitting on her bed as she slid under her blankets, the only light coming from the moonlight through the sheer curtains and the light from the hall flooding through the door.

“Can you tickle my back? My daddy does it every night.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Joe, right where you were every night, scratching his daughter's back until she fell asleep. It was enough to melt you and you could only nod. She gave you a tired grin, flipping her duvet down to her waist and lying on her stomach, a quiet sigh falling from the small girl’s mouth, her eyes already fluttering shut. 

You didn’t notice Joe, who had rushed home after losing track of time and found you in his daughter’s room, fulfilling the nightly routine he so deeply cherished. Maddie was asleep within five minutes and Joe leaned against the doorframe, smiling as you leaned down to press a soft kiss into her hair. “G’night, sweet girl.”

You stood, pulling her duvet up to her shoulders and turning around to tiptoe out of the room. You gasped at the sight of Joe in the doorway, a smile on his face. “What is up with you and sneaking up on me?”

He just laughed, motioning for you to follow him. You walked out of Maddie’s room, sending the girl one last glance before you stepped into the hallway, Joe already on his way downstairs. “Y/N, I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was and I tried to call you but...” He trailed off, searching through his pockets for his wallet.

“Oh, my phone died. I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to bring a charger,” you admitted bashfully, shrugging when he looked up at you.

“Don’t apologize, please. It seems like you guys had a good night.” He smiled, finally finding his wallet and slipping it from his pants pocket.

You spoke while he opened it. “Yeah, it was great. We watched a movie and spent some time outside once it got a little cooler; we ordered some pizza, I hope that’s alright,” you rambled quietly, voice getting weaker as he pulled the money from his wallet.

“Only if there are leftovers,” he joked, handing you cash. 

“Mr. Mazzello, I can’t take this much.” Two fifty dollar bills sat in your hands and he rolled his eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Joe? And you can, and you will. You’re great with them, and I ran late. Considerably so. Please, just take it,” he pushed, walking toward the kitchen. “So, we’ll see you at the same time tomorrow?”

You said yes and bid him goodbye, grabbing your bag from the couch and, still admiring the house, you walked to the door to slip on your shoes. You dropped the second bill in the catch bowl on the table next to the door and opened it, your shoes only half-on as Joe yelled out another ‘ _thank you!_ ’ You closed the door behind you, breathing out deeply as you walked home.

“What’s _really_ gonna happen if you just fuck him?” Alex, your ex-roommate, was on speakerphone as you read over your emails. You rolled your eyes. “Just do it. What’s so bad about it?”

“A myriad of things. Allow me to make a list. One; he’s my neighbor—“

“He’s your parent’s neighbor.”

“Who I happen to live next to,” you snarked, looking away from your computer to your phone in exasperation. “Two, he may not even be attracted to me and that would be more embarrassing than anything that could come of this.”

“You’re hot.” She stated it as though it was obvious, her voice matter of fact. “Plus, you’re young. What kind of guy like that doesn’t want a young, hot girl chasing him?”

“A well-adjusted adult man who is attracted to women his own age,” you said distractedly, eyes glued to the screen of your laptop.

“Are you telling me that if he approached you and tried to sleep with you, you would say no because he isn’t ‘well-adjusted?’” She asked, the sarcasm in her voice obvious. You just laughed, a little too loud and you shook your head, closing your laptop.

“Hell no,” you said playfully, making your best friend laugh. You picked up your phone, taking it off speaker and pressing it to your ear, lying on your back as you sighed heavily. She giggled in your ear. 

The next morning, you were back at Joe’s at the same time, nine o’clock sharp and knocking on his door. The morning sun was as bright as his smile when he answered, welcoming you in. “Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning,” you answered sweetly, a grin mirroring his as you walked inside, kicking off your shoes. The tiniest glance at the catch bowl tells you that he’s picked up the cash you’d thrown there the night before and you flushed, grateful his back was turned to you as he walked through the house.

“So, they aren’t up yet but they should be soon, and I swear to god I’ll be home on time tonight.”

You laughed, nodding as you reached into your bag to pull something out. “No worries. Have a good day.” You turned to smile at him politely, seeing him with his hands in his pockets.

“You too,” he replied; you turned back around, brow furrowing as you continued to search through your bag. “Oh, Y/N?” You spun around to face him again, considerably closer with a folded fifty-dollar bill between two of his fingers, held up between the two of you. “You’re not sneaky, little girl.”

The raspy quality of his voice makes you shudder, embarrassment flooding in your cheeks and arousal pooling between your legs. “Joe—”

He waved you off, holding the bill out to you. You took it bashfully, looking up to his self-satisfied smirk and tucking it into your pocket. “Have a nice day,” he said brightly, turning on his heel and grabbing his keys, only a glance sent back to you before he closed the front door behind him.

You spent the day thinking about Joe’s words, flushed even when you sat in the shade. The heatwave was almost over, something you couldn’t have been more grateful for. Most of the morning was spent watching Charlie and Maddie playing catch as you lounged in the shade. The three of you retreated only once shadow becomes obsolete in the backyard. The rest of the day was a random assortment of activities; cookies were made, rooms were cleaned, pictures were drawn. Joe, as promised, arrived home on time and tried to send you home with another fifty (you had talked him down to $30) and, pleased with yourself, you walked home.

Your family was out, leaving you alone in the house, so when you heard a knock not long after nine o’clock, you can’t help but peek out an upstairs window. Joe stood, hands in the pockets of a jacket he hadn’t been wearing when you left the house. You rushed down the stairs, your breathing just barely faster when you opened the door to see him, a shy smile on his face. 

“Maddie needs you.” 

Your brows furrowed, closing the door behind you. “What’s up?”

He sighed, looking back to the house. You could see the little girl looking out at the two of you from the upper-level window, waving when you met her gaze. You waved back, laughing as she exaggeratedly motioned for you to come over. “She wants her hair braided, but the way I do it is insufficient, I guess. She’s been begging for you for fifteen minutes.”

“Oh, of course. Yeah, that’s not a problem,” you breathed, walking down your driveway to the sidewalk, arms folded over your chest as you shivered. The days were sweltering but the nights froze you to the bone. You walked in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, the cool night air brushing goosebumps over your shoulders. Joe couldn’t help but run his eyes down your legs as he walked behind you, your bare feet pressing into the cold cement as you ascended the stairs of his porch. He bit his lip, adjusting his gaze to the back of your head, mentally scolding himself.

It nearly pained Joe how attracted he was to you. When he’d first met you, you were going into your junior in high school; what had started with an adoration for your seemingly never-ending nonsense had changed when you moved away. He missed catching glimpses of you crawling out of your friend's car as he was getting ready for work, much too late (early, really) for you to be getting home. He missed watching you play with his kids during block parties. Mostly, he missed seeing you at all. But when you’d come home from your first year of college, it was obvious to Joe he had mistaken his own feelings. What he’d once mistaken as a fondness similar to that of a friend, he’d been corrected into knowing was attraction. Pure, unadulterated attraction. It made him nauseous to think of how young you were, to think of what he was doing at your age, realizing just how far apart in life you were from one another. Especially now, as you stood behind his daughter in the bathroom, running your fingers through her thick hair as he watched the two of you silently.

“We’ll have to teach your dad to braid like this, huh?” You teased, making eye contact with him through the mirror. He grinned, running his fingers through his auburn hair and watching as Maddie puckered her lips in thought.

“No,” she decided, surprising you both.

“Why not, Mads?” He asked, watching your face, twisted in confusion as you brushed her hair back before setting the brush aside.

“I like the way Y/N does it better,” she said decisively, making you giggle, your eyes focused on your fingers as you began your french braid.

“And you looked so pretty when we took it out this morning,” you said, briefly making eye contact with her in the mirror. The young girl looked elated at your praise, making Joe’s chest swell with heavy, sticky adoration for both of you. Joe watched as you finished her braid in silence, only humming along to the song Maddie sang under her breath. “There you go.” You put your hands on her small shoulders, smiling at her reflection and trying to ignore Joe’s stare in the mirror.

“Thank you,” she said softly, turning to wrap her arms around your waist. Joe didn’t miss the way your face softened, your hand running over the braid in her hair.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Maddie only hummed in agreement, padding out of the bathroom and leaving you and Joe alone. “I should go.”

“Yeah, me too. Y’know, daddy duties.” You laughed as Maddie called out for him, as if on cue. You walked out of the bathroom, ready to get back to your empty house and overanalyze every single one of his glances from the exchange when he gripped your wrist. You turned to face him, surprised. “Thank you. I know this isn’t typical babysitter stuff. I really am trying to find someone.”

“Don’t worry about it, Joe. I completely understand.”

The thing with Joe was that ‘just for a little bit’ often turned into ‘for the rest of eternity.’ Within a few weeks, all talk of finding a new babysitter was nonexistent, not that you minded. You had gotten Joe down to a solid $20 a day, more when he ran late, which left you with over $100 a week and practically unlimited time with the kids that had basically become your best friends. Even you and Joe had gotten closer, plenty of nights ending with you participating in family game night or trips to the ice cream parlor.

On this particular Sunday, you were at home, pondering what plans you had for the week. School was due to start in less than a month and you wanted to give them an exciting last few weeks of the summer; you’d already gone to zoos and aquariums, and were at public pools more than once a week. You were truly struggling when a text vibrated your phone.

_**The kids are staying with my sister this week, so you’re off the hook for a few days!**_ Joe sent. Then, a few seconds later, _**I can still pay you, though. If you need it.**_

You laughed, rolling your eyes. _**You try to pay me too much.**_ You sent him. _**I’m fine. Thanks for letting me know!**_

You called Alex immediately. “I’m not babysitting all week,” you said, voice light as your best friend gasped in excitement.

“Is that your way of inviting me over?” She asked, voice light as you rolled your eyes, chuckling.

“How fast can you get here?”

Alex had found her way to your house in under an hour, walking into your home uninvited. “Y/N, I’m here!” She announced, only waving to your shocked mother as she bounded up the stairs. You squealed excitedly, swinging your bedroom door open to see her there.

Alex had always been and would forever be all messy, curly black hair and ripped jeans. She was loud and had _serious_ problems with boundaries, and as unlikely as it seemed, you’d been thick as thieves since the moment you met.

She’d moved out of state after you moved home to your parents and you had barely seen her since moving home, so the sight of her in your hallway makes you throw your arms around her neck in a tight hug. “You’re cutting off my circulation,” she choked playfully. 

You only squeezed her tighter, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you held her close to you. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” she said quietly, wrapping her arms around her waist. “And don’t worry, we’re going to fit as much fun into this week as possible.”

An overarching character trait of Alex’s was that she was trouble. No matter what you did or where you went, she found a way to make things more exciting. You were only reminded of this fact as you watched her dance with a stranger in a bar that was not made for dancing. In a bar you weren’t even supposed to _be_ in. 

“You’d be surprised,” Alex had told you as you walked into the bar. “how lenient these bouncer guys can be.” 

You weren’t _that_ far off from being 21, so what could it hurt? Alex had, characteristically, found someone within seconds of walking through the door, leaving you to your own devices at the bar. You sat alone and with nothing better to do, scrolled through your phone and answered previously ignored text messages, nursing your beer. 

“Excuse me, miss? Aren’t you a little young to be in here?” 

You recognized Joe’s voice almost immediately. You turned to face him, dismay clear on your face as he smirked at you. “Joe,” you said simply, stunned to see a familiar face. It wasn’t a place you imagined Joe would spend his spare time, time without his kids, but he looked natural, like he’d been coming for years. 

“Y/N,” he replayed, delight obvious as you struggled to gain your composure. 

“This is _so_ embarrassing,” you groaned, dropping your face into your hands as he chortled, head falling back as he laughed. You peaked out at him from between your fingers, heart clenching at the sight of his bright smile.

“I could name a few times more embarrassing than this,” he promised, making you roll your eyes.

“Like when?” You asked, face unimpressed as he asked the bartender for his own beer before turning back to you with a shrewd smile. 

“How about that time you came home drunk the same time I got home from work and when I said hi to you, you threw up in my rose bushes?”

It was a memory that you had been so close to finally pushing out of your mind and you groaned loudly. “Jesus Christ.” 

He only laughed again, patting your thigh to comfort you and turning back to his beer. “So what are you doing here, anyway?” He asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. He’d never understood how you could look so stunning in such casual clothing; just a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt was enough to nearly spend a tipsy Joe into a spiral.

“I came with my friend, but she’s a little preoccupied.” You hooked a thumb over your shoulder and Joe looked, eyes instantly finding the only other woman in the bar that looked as young as you, her arms wrapped around a tall blonde as she giggled.

“Why aren’t you hanging off someone like that?” He asked teasingly, making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, right,” you laughed, taking another sip of your beer.

“I’m serious! You’re young, you’re attractive. I’m surprised all these guys aren’t all over you,” he exclaimed. The alcohol was most _definitely_ hitting him harder than he thought it would, sooner than he thought it would. The confession wasn’t something he would have ever said had he been completely sober. Joe pushed his beer away.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re taking up the seat,” you teased. “No one’ll come make a move if you’re here.”

Joe smirked, his foot hooking under the footrest of your stool, pulling him closer to himself as you squeaked in surprise, hands gripping the edge of the sticky counter to stabilize yourself. “Maybe that’s why I’m sitting here,” Joe murmured lowly. He mentally counted the beers he’d consumed, realizing he’d only had two. So, why was he so brave? And why did a shiver run down your spine?

“You’re drunk,” you laughed shakily, patting his arm. You felt as though you were about to explode, the pressure in your stomach building steadily under his burning gaze. 

“I’m really not,” he promised. “A little tipsy, maybe. But definitely not drunk.”

“Oh,” you breathed.

He raised a brow, silently urging you to meet him in the middle. It had been obvious to Joe for years now the effect he had on you. Your gaze lingered, smiles were wider, and Christ, the lip biting. He had to force himself to stay calm every time your teeth sunk into the plush skin of your lower lip. 

In lieu of words, you scooted closer, your thighs pressed together and your shoulders touching as you took another sip of your beer. His hand laid on your denim-clad thigh, thumb rubbing small circles as you released an unsteady breath. “This is inappropriate, isn’t it?” He asked in your ear.

“Mhm.” It was all you could manage, the desperation clear even in the hum you offered as you gripped his wrist to keep his hand from moving from your thigh. He just smiled, leaning closer to your ear and watching your best friend discreetly. Alex was too distracted with the man she’d left you alone for to notice you floundering at the bar. 

“Is your friend staying with you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice making you shudder. You nodded. He sighed, using a finger to move your hair behind your shoulder, brushing your exposed collarbone. “What a shame,” he said softly, and your eyes met his, hooded and hazy as you furrowed your brow.

“Why?” 

“I was going to give you a ride home, but if she’s with you, we can’t leave her alone, can we?”

You whined. A real whine, high and with your eyes closed. You were undeniably soaked and it only got worse when his nose brushed your ear, then your cheek, then your own nose. The featherlight touches nearly drove you over the edge. “Do something, Joe. Please,” you begged quietly. He smirked, leaning back to look at you.

“Like what?” He asked condescendingly, voice lilting in a way that usually would have made you furious but now only made you moan.

“Touch me,” you said simply. Joe didn’t look moved by your answer, brown eyes still watching you expectantly as you groaned. Your hand, still gripping his wrist, pulled his hand to the apex of your thighs. Joe breathed heavily, his fingers rubbing over your clothed center; he could feel the heat radiating from you and he moaned lowly.

He stood silently, grabbing your hand as you watched his every move. He dragged you to the bathroom, walking slowly despite every cell of his body begging him to run. Your eyes crossed the bar to watch your best friend, her full attention still on the man she’d picked up half an hour before. 

The moment Joe had you in the bathroom, you heard the click of the lock and your back was pressed into the door, his lips on yours instantly. You moaned into him, hands pulling at the belt loops of his jeans as he ground into you, caging you against the door. 

He pulled away after only a minute, not nearly long enough after years of pining on your side, but his deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans easily, playing with the waistband of your panties casually. “Wasn’t really how I pictured this, but I can’t complain,” he breathed. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You’re too hung up on his previous sentence to do more than nod at his insistence. He’d imagined this? How many times? When? You knew all the answers to those questions on your end; yes, thousands, and usually when you were tucked safely behind a locked bedroom door, fingers slipping into your panties much like his were now.

He didn’t bother pulling your pants down, just sticking his hand in your panties and growling as he ran a single finger through your folds. “How often do you think about this?” He asked sharply, free hand coming up to grip your jaw. You whimpered.

“All the time, Joe. So often. Please, please, _please_.” You don’t know how to put what you’re begging for into words but he understood exactly what you wanted. He sunk a single finger into you, reveling in your gasp of delight and surprise.

“Such a wet little cunt. So greedy. You needed this, didn’t you?” His fingertips pressed into your jaw and you already knew you’d feel him even after he let go. You moaned loudly as he curled his fingers into your g-spot. “Need more?” The condescending tone was back and you bit your lip, nodding so vehemently you hit your head lightly on the door you were pressed against. 

He pressed a second finger into you, the heel of his hand rubbing deliciously against your clit as you rolled your hips. “Fuck, Joe,” you whispered, hands gripping his shoulders.

“So fucking pretty. And such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” He asked, watching you nod desperately. “Yeah. Good fucking girl, taking my fingers so well. Want another?”

“Want you,” you managed. He just sunk his pointer finger in with his other two, fucking into you as you whined out in pleasure at the stretch.

“Can’t fuck you here, baby. Gonna make you come on my fingers. S’that okay?” He implored rhetorically. He could tell you were already on the edge, your face warped in pleasure as he curled his fingers into you. His hand released your jaw, slipping down and wrapping his fingers around your throat with light pressure. With one more curl of his fingers and a particularly harsh circle of his wrist against your clit, your fingernails were digging into his shoulders as you cried out his name, your sounds echoing around the bathroom along with the music playing over the speakers.

He pulled his fingers from your panties, pulling a paper towel out of the dispenser and wiping his hand quickly before turning back to you. He held your hips, making sure your footing was steady as you caught your breath. 

“Are you good?” He asked, buttoning your jeans again and smoothing out your shirt, brown eyes full of concern.

“You could say that,” you breathed. Joe laughed, sighing as your hands fell from his shoulders. Your eyes dropped to his jeans, biting your lip at the sight of his cock straining against them.

“You need to stop the lip-biting,” he commanded playfully. You rolled your eyes, reaching out to palm him as inhaled sharply in surprise.

“How can I, when you always look so good?” 

He bit his own lip as you unbuttoned his jeans much in the same way he had yours just moments before. “You don’t have to,” he managed, voice strained as you ran a finger over the outline of his hard-on through his underwear. Your lips pouted.

“I want to. You made me feel so good, wanna make you feel good too,” you insisted, dipping your fingers below the waistband and wrapping your fingers around him. You both moan at the contact, Joe’s lips kissing you once again as he hips bucked into your hand. You pushed down his boxer-briefs, giggling at the pattern as you continued to stroke him. Just enough of him was exposed, just enough to let you see him. 

You whine at the sight, your mouth watering as you watched your hand move up and down his shaft, thumb swiping over his head to displace the pre-come that had collected there. “Sweet Christ,” he cursed, glancing at your face to see the hungry look that had overtaken you. He growled, kissing you again and thrusting against your hand, frustration growing at your leisurely pace. You moaned, allowing his tongue access into your mouth as he fucked into your hand, the grunts falling from his lips only being swallowed gratefully by you.

Your wrist moved your hand with a newfound determination, ready for Joe to come as you jerked him frenziedly, his head falling back and his mouth falling open, a loud groan echoed over the bathroom walls. “Want you to come,” you breathed, kissing down his exposed neck as his hips stuttered, hands gripping your hips tightly.

“Feels so fucking good, Y/N,” he moaned. You rubbed your thumb over his head again, watching the veins in his neck bulge as he grunted. “Gonna come for you.” 

You smiled with pride, adding more pressure and using your thumb once again before he was biting into your neck, the vibrations of his groaning coursing through your body as he came. It somehow, someway managed to miss your clothing for the most part, save for a spot on Joe’s chest and the sleeve of your shirt. “Oh, fuck. I’m sorry,” he breathed heavily, his thumb swiping at it to get as much off the fabric as possible. 

He tentatively placed the thumb at your lips, tapping the lower twice before you obediently opened them, tongue swirling around Joe’s thumb as you cleaned the spot of come off the pad of his thumb. You released it with a pop. “No worries, I have a jacket out on my seat, still,” you breathed casually. 

Your eyes met and a thick, heavy tension fell over the two of you. Now what? What were you expected to do? This was not something you did and went on as usual afterwards, so you pursed your lips tightly, avoiding eye contact.

“I know this is, uh, not expected. Or apt. But I truly do want to see you again, and not in the bathroom of a seedy bar.”

You laughed at his words. “I want to see you too.” You nodded, looking up to take him in. His auburn hair was mussed, similar to yours, you were sure, his expression soft. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Come over tomorrow,” he insisted. You bit your lip, making his stomach stir as you nodded, slipping from between him and the door to wash your hands, making him chuckle. He watched you in the reflection of the mirror, listening to your casual humming as you dried your hands and he buttoned his jeans. You turned to him for one final once over, making sure he was presentable. Your eyes zeroed in on the spot of his come, just below his sternum and you blushed as you swiped it away with your thumb, sticking it in your mouth quickly, as though it were more a formality and less something you were doing for pleasure.

The sight still does something to Joe, because he kissed you once again, firm and breathless as he held you against him. It was over in an instant, your shock palpable as you looked up at him. “We should get out there,” you said simply. Joe nodded.

Alex was at your seat when the two of you left the bathroom, blushing under the knowing gaze of an older man waiting patiently outside the door. She raised a questioning brow and you flushed more, avoiding her gaze. Joe noticed her too, shifting under her scrutiny. Instead of kissing you, he squeezed your hips reassuringly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You nodded, patting his arm and approaching your best friend, her pointed gaze following him out the door. “He’s hot. Who is he?”

“That’s, uh...that’s Joe.”

“ _That’s Joe?_ ” She yelled, catching the attention of a few people down the bar.

“Jesus Christ, calm down, please. Yes, that’s Joe,” you said, your cheeks and chest still warm and your legs still shaky. She leaned back in your—her—seat and smirked, picking up her drink and chewing on her straw.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, missy.”

The two of you leave not much later than one o’clock, the bar still full even on a Sunday night. Alex squeezed all the details out of you, down to the stain on your shirt, which you stuttered over and blushed at. 

“How happy are you that I’m visiting?” She laughed loudly as you two took off your makeup, making you furrow your brows as you breathed out a confused chuckle.

“Pretty glad, why?” 

Your best friend rolled her eyes. “If I never came, you never would’ve gone to the bar and you never would have seen your hot DILF of a neighbor, and you never would have been finger-banged in the bathroom of a bar.” 

You chortled loudly at this, pushing her away from you as you rolled your eyes, throwing away your makeup wipe. “Yeah, about that. You’re going to have to find something to do tomorrow night, because I’m going over there after he gets home from work.”

Your best friend grinned, padding to your room and giving you a moment to yourself. You watched yourself in the mirror, eyes trained on yourself as you pucker your lips in thought. The events of hours past seemed, still, like a dream, despite the fact that you could see a small bruise blooming on your jaw from how tightly he’d held you.

You turned off the bathroom light, concealing yourself from your own intent stare as you walked toward your bedroom, finding Alex already passed out under the covers. Your phone laid heavily on your chest as you lay next to her, her breathing even and deep as she slept. You picked it up only to put it back down and pick it up again immediately, unlocking it and finding the text thread between you and Joe. How was it that just over twelve hours ago, he was trying to pay you and texting you about his kids, and now your whole situation had changed.

_**is this crazy?**_ it was a simple question that he answered in moments. 

_**A little bit.** _

_**is it a bad idea?** _

Again, in under thirty seconds, he responded, _**Definitely.**_

You purse your lips, rolling onto your side and staring at the curtain covered window that gave you a glimpse of his home, a glance into the study. _**we shouldn’t do this.**_

_**But we’re going to.**_ It wasn’t a question, or a demand. It was a statement, simple and easy.

_**yeah, we are.** _

The next day was spent between you and Alex, an at-home “spa day” which was a thinly-veiled excuse for you to prepare yourself for Joe. A long shower ended with a freshly shaved, sweet-smelling you. Alex painted your fingernails _and_ your toenails in the living room, an old movie playing as white noise as the two of you spoke.

“It just feels weird to get all done up for this guy who’s seen me in my worst state. The same guy I beat in a pie-eating contest at a block party.” Maybe not the best first impression, and it had absolutely made you sick the night before your first day of junior year, but the cheap plastic trophy and the fact that it still got brought up made it worth it.

Alex just looked up at you from your lap, her sheet mask covering her face perfectly as you struggled to keep yours on. “Things change, Y/N/N. He was that guy yesterday morning. Now he’s the guy you’re potentially fucking. It’s important to be flexible.” 

The advice was entirely unhelpful.

You showed up at Joe’s house that night just as Alex left to an old friend of yours’ house. Both desperately horny, you’d easily assumed they were the perfect match. You knocked on the door, the heat of the summer night breezing over your legs as you contemplated whether or not a dress was a good idea. Joe answered in jeans and a button-up, making you feel a bit better as he grinned at your appearance.

“You look incredible,” he breathed softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek and urging you inside. “I thought I’d make dinner and we can backtrack a little. I guess we’re doing things out of order.” He watched your expression carefully as he led you into the kitchen. “Unless you think that’s lame, in which case we don’t have to eat dinner. I guess I was just thinking—“

You cut him off with a sweet peck and a gentle, reassuring squeeze on his arm. “Dinner is perfect, Joe.”

Joe was practically shriveling into himself. You had always found him confident, self-assured, easy and now he was rambling and staring at you from across the table, his brown eyes boring intimidatingly into yours. “I’m nervous,” he admitted, fingers intertwined.

You let out a breath. “Me too,” you divulged. “And I don’t exactly know why.”

“I do,” he said softly. You diverted your eyes, looking away from his intense stare and fiddling with your fingers.

“Really quiet without the kids here,” you breathed, changing the subject smoothly. Joe laughed, nodding and crossing the kitchen to plate your food.

“I thought it would be nice, but it’s actually kind of weird. You’d know better than most that silence in a house with kids is the scariest sound. _Especially_ my kids.” 

Just like that, the two of you were back in your rhythm, playful and fun and relaxed. Dinner went exceedingly well and far longer than you’d expected it to, conversation flowing for hours. Joe had made one of his mother’s recipes, one he assured you had been passed down through generations of family before being handed to him, something that made your stomach churn in adoration, the effort he put into the night obvious as the two of you ate.

By the time you finished eating, your conversation was still going and could have gone into the early hours of the night, but Joe was desperate to move into the second act of the evening.

He stood, rinsing your plates quickly before he grabbed your hand, ignoring the confusion in your eyes. “I want to show you something,” he insisted, pulling you gently out of your chair and up the stairs. The familiar house seemed foreign, devoid of the giggling children you spent your days with, but with Joe it felt brand new. A palace of new opportunities. 

You recognized the room as soon as you stepped into it, heavy wooden bookshelves lining the far wall and a large desk tucked near the window, the window looking into your bedroom. “The study,” you concluded, looking at Joe in confusion.

He smiled, a soft hand on your lower back leading you to the desk. The two of you stared out the window into your room, the curtains still open from the morning. “Remember your senior year, when you dated that kid who drove the god-awful yellow car?”

Christian Lennon had been the most popular boy in your grade, drove the nicest car, and captained the football team. When he took an interest in you halfway through your senior year, you were positively delighted. It hadn’t lasted long, relationship-wise, but the sex carried on for months afterwards. You nearly shivered just at the thought of it. Christian _still_ crossed your mind and your bedsheets every few months. 

“I’d hardly call it dating,” you snorted playfully, still looking into your bedroom. The golden pink sunlight streamed through, painting your belongings in a nearly celestial light. Joe’s hand moved from the small of your back to around your waist, squeezing tightly.

“You’ve always been bad at closing your curtains,” he snarled, nipping at your earlobe as you shuddered.

“You…you saw? Christian and I?” You flushed, turning your attention away from the window to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Oh, darling, did I. Was perverse of me to see it when you were in high school, catching glimpses of the sweet girl next door getting pounded into the mattress. Imagine my shock. But it continued, and I avoided this room for months. And then you came home for the holidays and he was still coming around.” His lips moved from your ear to just below it, sucking harshly. Your knees shook. “And even just a few weeks ago, he was over. Wasn’t he?”

You whimpered out a pathetic reply. “Yes, Joe.” His fingers ran up your thighs, pushing up the hem of your dress before dropping it again.

“But he won’t be coming around anymore,” Joe said firmly, pressing a sweet kiss to the junction of your shoulder and your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. You knew, even though the spot was invisible to you, that it would leave a mark. He spun you around in his arms, lifting you to sit on the desk as he kissed you. His kisses were saccharine sweet but so hot they made your skin burn, seconds long and teasing as he pulled away from you, only smiling when you chased him. “Desperate for my lips. What else are you desperate for?”

You whined, arching into him as he kissed down your neck. Your dress was flipped up with ease, revealing the less-than-useful panties Alex had insisted you wear. Joe’s eyes darkened at the sight of the paper-thin lace, fingers immediately brushing over the fabric. You moaned at the slightest touch, legs spreading as he knelt before you, eyes still glued to you. To the dampness of your panties. He groaned.

“Got all dolled up for me, hm?” He asked, raising a brow from between your legs. He kissed wetly at your inner thighs, eyes not leaving your own. You hummed in agreeance, hand wrapped in his hair. “Very pretty, baby. Pretty dress, pretty panties, pretty girl.” His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of the flimsy lace and your hips lifted as he pulled them away. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, throwing them over his shoulders and preventing you from squeezing them closed. He growled at the sight. “And such a pretty pussy, too.” 

With that, he dove in. His fingers kept you spread open for him, his tongue alternating between long licks and flicking at your clit, eyes glued to your face as you jumped and moaned, hand still holding his hair. You weren’t a stranger to sex by any means but Joe had you close in a matter of minutes; his eyes closed as he moaned against you, making you squeak out a moan as your hips stuttered.

Joe _definitely_ knew what he was doing, that much was obvious. He knew every spot to hit, how long to stay and when to move on. Your mind was hazy with pleasure and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d come from _just_ someone’s mouth, but when Joe sucked your clit into his mouth, you nearly screamed.

“C’mon. You gonna come?” He pulled away from you for just a moment as you nodded, his fingers taking the place of his tongue, his index finger rubbing slow, loose circles against your clit; your hips jerked. His head ducked down again, sucking your clit into his mouth again and sucking harshly. Your heels dug into his shoulders, jaw going slack as you came. You let out a quiet whimper, the only sound you could manage as he pulled back, flicking your clit with his tongue as he watched you. Your thighs clamped like a vice but his strong hands pressed into them, pushing them as wide as they would go as he continued to eat you out.

Your hips rolled, a fucked-out whine leaving your lips as he slowed down, kissing your thighs as you closed your eyes, leaning back onto your palms to catch your breath. He stood, hands sliding up your sides as he leaned in to kiss you. “Can you give me one more?” He asked into your mouth.

“Yes,” you said softly, kissing him back softly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him press into you, against your sensitivity and you whined again as he ground into you. “Want you in me,” you griped. Joe fingers played with your zipper, leaning back to look at you.

“Is that how we ask?” He reprimanded softly, pulling the zipper down and pushing the straps off your shoulders, running a finger over the bare skin of your shoulder as you groaned in frustration.

“Please, Joe. Please fuck me.” Your hands gripped the fabric of his button-up tightly, legs pulling him closer as you begged him.

“That’s better.” 

Joe pulled your dress over your head, admiring your smooth skin as your fingers tugged at his belt. Joe, still fully dressed, laughed softly at your desperation. His fingers made slow work of his shirt, unbuttoning it at half the rate you had managed to push his jeans and boxers down. His fingers wrapped around his cock, your eyes glued to his movements. “Why don’t you turn around for me?” You did so with the utmost obedience, bent over the desk only seconds after he asked. “Such a good girl.”

“Joe, please,” you whined, looking back at him with pleading eyes.

He slipped in without hesitation, sheathing himself entirely with one stroke; easily, smoothly. No resistance. You moaned loudly, biting into your fist as he began to thrust. “C’mon, babe. Let me hear you,” you groaned loudly, palms flat on the heavy wood of the desk as you stared into your window. Joe’s hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he thrust slowly into you. “Think of how jealous I must have been seeing someone else take you.”

Both of you stared into your bedroom, the sun lighting up your belongings as he fucked into you. “Never again,” you promised. Your words made him speed up, surprise rushing through both of you at your statement.

Joe pushes his shock to the side, hand sliding up to rest flat on your chest, keeping you against him as he began to pound into you. “Never?”

“Just you from now on, Joe. F-feel so fucking good inside me, Jesus Christ,” you breathed, fingers wrapping around his wrist.

“Just me. Just me to make you feel good?” His fingers found your clit and you yelped out a ‘ _yes!_ ’ either in response to his question or in pure pleasure. Either way, he growled and kissed your neck. “Good girl.”

“Fuck, Joe,” you moaned, his lips sucking another mark into your neck. 

“Wanna make you feel good forever.”

If you were throwing around a _never_ , Joe would be throwing around _forever_.

You whined, nodding against him. Your head dropped back onto his shoulder as he thrust into primally. “Want that,” you forced, fingers wrapped around his wrists to keep him in place. His hand moved up to your throat, squeezing lightly.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, eyes closed in ecstasy as Joe fucked you deeply, his hands keeping you against him. “Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so good.” He moaned lowly, the praise sending a jolt through your body, muscles clenching around him. He grunted at the feeling of you tightening around him, squeezing your throat briefly before loosening his fingers again.

“I’m going to--Joe, I’m--” You stammered, your mind spinning as he nipped at your earlobe.

“I know, baby. That’s okay. Give it to me,” he coaxed, fingers rubbing more precisely at your clit as your vision went white, teeth clenching and brow furrowing as you came again, your legs nearly buckling beneath you. Joe slowed down, holding you up as you came down from your high. He pulled out of you, turning you around and helping you sit on the desk. His fingers ran through your hair and yours pulled him closer.

“Keep going,” you pleaded, legs wrapping around his waist. “Want you to come.”

He growled, slipping back into you with ease, thrusting into you as your jaw dropped. Your hand cupped the back of his neck, foreheads pressed together and breath intertwining between you as he fucked into you. You clenched lazily around him and a breath caught in his throat. “Where should--where do you--”

You just pulled him into a deep kiss, wrapping your legs tighter around him, keeping him inside of you as he came. He let out a deep grunt into your mouth before you could feel him spill inside of you, his eyes closed and his hips stuttering as he came. You pulled away from the kiss but wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keeping him close to you as he came down, breathing heavily into your hair as you held one another close.

“This is a mess, isn’t it?” He asked breathlessly, staring into your window.

Your eyes closed, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you laughed humorlessly. “Oh, absolutely.”


End file.
